


New Guy

by Jess_eklom



Series: JJBek 2020 [2]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-16
Updated: 2020-09-16
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:14:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26500459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jess_eklom/pseuds/Jess_eklom
Summary: New day, new school - this is something Otabek is pretty well used to. This time, however, he meets someone interesting.Written for the 9 weeks of JJBek challenge - Highschool/University AU prompt.
Relationships: Otabek Altin & Jean-Jacques Leroy
Series: JJBek 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1906165
Comments: 3
Kudos: 4
Collections: JJBek2020





	New Guy

**Author's Note:**

> New day, new school - this is something Otabek is pretty well used to. This time, however, he meets someone interesting. 
> 
> Written for the 9 weeks of JJBek challenge - Highschool/University AU prompt. It's more of a ficlet at this time and more of a teaser than anything. I'm debating continuing it, but for now, I'll call it done.

Otabek closed his eyes and took a deep breath. It really sucked being the new guy. ALWAYS being the new guy.  
The bell rang and the students milling about hurried into the building, but he took another moment to himself before opening his eyes and heading in. Be the time he made it to the front steps of the building, everyone had cleared out and were presumably already sitting in their classrooms, but not him. 

He was new. Again. He knew the routine by heart. 

Stepping inside the building he’d never set foot in, he looked around and was met with the sight he’d expected; a glass case with various trophies, a mural on the opposite wall with a proud lion done by an art club, no doubt, hand-lettered posters done up in tempera and acrylic paints advertising names he’d never seen before and didn’t bother to read for student council president or treasurer, king or queen of something, or maybe it was some sort of pep rally poster. It didn’t matter. It was the same at every school he’d been to and all of them were of little consequence.  
His booted footsteps echoed in the empty hallway. A security guard could be seen at the very far end, but paid Otabek no mind. The way to the admin office was predictable and there he found signs of life again. Student workers sat at the reception desk – one was filing papers, the other was filing her nails. Otabek ignored them both and followed the signs to the door that said, “guidance counselor”. He politely knocked on the open door and a man with silver hair and a bright smile looked up from where he’d been tapping away at his computer. 

“Mr. Altin, I presume?” he asked, holding a hand out for Otabek to shake. He had an accent, not that Otabek didn’t, but he found it interesting. “My name is Viktor Nikiforov. I’m your guidance counselor,” he went on to say. Russian, perhaps. 

Otabek tested that by responding accordingly, which seemed to delight the man. He was invited to take a seat and they spent the next half hour or so chatting back and forth in a mix of Russian and English, about the challenges of enrolling part way through a semester, and the class load he would have. 

At the end of it, Otabek stood, hearing a knock at the door and assuming his time was up. The bell had just rung again after all and it made sense that someone else would have an appointment.  
“Hey Mr. V, you sent for me?” a voice asked from behind Otabek. 

Turning, Otabek found himself staring at a handsome man, taller than himself, with bright blue eyes, thick eyebrows, a winning grin and an undercut, not unlike his own. Where Otabek had his slicked back, this guy had his hair parted off center with little product in it. It had this causal fall to it and looked really soft. He was dressed in well-fitting jeans, athletic shoes, a black tee with a white stylized “JJ” screen printed on it near the collar, and a red track jacket. He wore a tiny gold cross hanging from a cord around his neck and had a black and red backpack slung over one shoulder.

“AH, Mr. Leroy. Come in,” Mr. Nikiforov said. “Meet Mr. Otabek Altin. Mr. Altin, this is Mr. Jean-Jacques Leroy; he will be your student advisor. Mr. Leroy, would you mind giving Mr. Altin a tour?” he asked. He handed the guy a sheet of pink paper after signing the slip. “I’ve already written a note to your teacher to let her know you’ll be busy this period.” 

“Cool!” the guy grinned, taking the note and then held a hand out to Otabek. “It’s good to meet you. You can call me Jean-Jacques if you want, but everyone calls me JJ. Otabek right? That’s a cool name! Where are you from?” 

“You can take this outside, Mr. Leroy,” Nikiforov said, to which Jean-Jacques, JJ rather, laughed. 

“Right! Come on,” he said, putting the note in his pocket. “We’ll get this tour under way, JJ Style,” he added, posing ridiculously, crossing his arms and making J’s out of his thumbs and forefingers over his chest, throwing me a wink. That confirmed it – the guy was an idiot. 

Still, I grabbed my backpack – black like the rest of my ensemble - and followed him. Mr. Nikiforov had already given me my printed class schedule, which I showed JJ when he asked. Apparently, I had more than one class with him. He was nice enough to offer to share his notes seeing as I’d already missed the first month and a half of school, and I briefly considered the offer. 

Luckily, I didn’t have to say much. This JJ character did more than enough talking for the both of us. He showed me the different wings of the school, talked to me about different clubs I could join, showed me some of the awards the school had earned, and even proudly pointed to his own achievements in that regard. Despite being an apparent idiot, the guy seemed to be an honor student, was an accomplished athlete, and was even in the running for homecoming king… and yet, he wasn’t the asshole that one would assume someone with that impressive popularity to be. 

He said hello to some of the other students we passed by – they were setting up some sort of club display – and though they seemed a little wary of him, they didn’t seem unfriendly. I guess I wasn’t the only one around here that thought this guy’s friendly exuberance was unusual. 

He kept trying to get me to talk about myself, something I don’t exactly make a habit of doing, and had the nerve to pout at me when I apparently didn’t give him much in the way of a satisfactory answer. Eventually, after showing me the gym and the band hall and the athletic fields and the cafeteria and where my locker was located (“It’s only a handful away from mine!” he’d said) he walked me to one of the classrooms and motioned to it with a flourish. 

“And this is where I leave you. We both have third lunch. I can introduce you to anyone you want then!” he said, looking very pleased with himself. “Later, Beks!” he chirped, as he checked his watch and darted down the adjacent hall. 

Little did I know then that the guy was about to become a fixture in my new life. 

Looking back, I really should have seen it coming.


End file.
